


A Stitch In Time

by lost_spook



Category: Doctor Who (1963), Miss Marple - Agatha Christie
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - 1920s, Awesome Liz Shaw, Awesome Miss Marple, Crossover, Gen, Women Being Awesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-25
Updated: 2012-05-25
Packaged: 2017-11-05 23:52:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/412412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lost_spook/pseuds/lost_spook
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s just another day at UNIT headquarters in 1922, except that the Doctor’s run off, Liz is playing at being a flapper, and the Brigadier could use some expert advice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Stitch In Time

**Author's Note:**

> Written as birthday fic for John_Amend_All, who wrote a fic about UNIT dating being so random that one day they might as easily be in the 18th or 19th century as the present one, just going about their usual business. And also another comment that led to the inclusion of somebody else. So, UNIT are just going about their business as usual, even though it's 1922, instead of 1970
> 
> (The collected series is here: [Really Stretching UNIT Dating](http://www.whofic.com/series.php?seriesid=2676)).

**September 1922**

“Well, Brigadier?” said Dr Elizabeth Shaw, pausing in the entrance to his office. “Satisfied now?”

He coughed, because he was aware there wasn’t a particularly sensible answer to that at this precise moment. Generally speaking, Dr Shaw wore practical long skirts and a blouse, although she did occasionally, when they were out in the field, wear bloomers that were far too unfeminine for his liking. Today, she was wearing a dark green dress that barely covered her knees – in fact it didn’t – and was embroidered with matching, tiny beads that caught the light when she moved. Her long hair, usually tied back for helping the Doctor with experiments, had been trimmed into a bob. 

It might be thought odd even in these post-war times to have a woman assisting his scientific advisor, but he’d grown used to it. In fact, she’d nearly taken on the advisor role herself, having qualified as a doctor – and, she assured him, used her time at Cambridge to pursue a strong interest in various branches of the sciences – although she found it hard to gain a practice anywhere. Oddly enough, as he understood it, it was usually the females of the district who disapproved of a woman doctor – in addition to male colleagues who disliked the competition. She’d also been out in France, where in some cases the need had overtaken the prejudices of the powers that be. He would never have sought out a female for the post, but she’d proved more than able, and that was all he asked for.

“You should pass muster,” he agreed eventually, with the faintest edge of a smile somewhere in his voice. 

She entered fully, with a glare in his direction. “Pass muster? Well, I like it, even if you don’t. I should have guessed you’d be the type to expect the womenfolk to stay in corsets. And the hair will certainly save time in the morning. I think the style is actually quite liberating, after all. I must say, I’m impressed that UNIT’s budget ran to _haute couture_.”

“I believe someone merely altered it for you,” he returned, refusing to rise, as ever. “As I’m sure you know perfectly well. Yes, you’ll do. Now, listen to me, Dr Shaw -”

Liz smirked and sat down in the chair opposite, crossing her legs, which were now revealed by the far shorter dress. “Brigadier, you have explained the plan to me at least three times. I know my cover story, thank you. Sir Arthur has agreed to add me to the guest list at the Grange, and I shall use that device of the Doctor’s to take readings for these ridiculous aliens of yours, and in the meantime, I shall mind my manners and play at being charming and ignorant.”

“Dr Shaw, there have been two deaths so far,” he responded, refraining from commenting on her last remark, even though he could have said something about the effort it would entail on her part. “Now, Benton will also be taken on as a member of staff -- Dr Shaw, I don’t see what’s quite so amusing?”

She sobered instantly. “Nothing, Brigadier. I hope he isn’t going to have to wait at table?”

“He’s going to be an under gardener or some such, I understand. They’re so short of staff, I can see the danger is going to be their wanting to keep him once we’re done. Which has nothing to say to the point, Dr Shaw -”

“Yes,” she murmured. “Very well. I do understand and I’m flattered that you think a mere female like myself capable of being of any use in the situation. And, really, I do think it’s a bit much of you to call me Dr Shaw while I’m under cover as a lady of leisure.”

He got up from the desk, crossing to the cupboard. “In that case, Liz, we’ll move on. Do we know where the Doctor has got to?”

“I told you,” she said. “The most frightful noises came out of the lab, and when I went in that box of his had gone, and there was only a scorch mark and a lot of smoke left. I’m assuming from the fact that there was no ash, or other remains, that it wasn’t a nasty explosion, but I’m forced to believe that his wild stories about it being a vehicle may actually have been true.”

The Brigadier gave a twitch of acknowledgement at that. “I’m afraid it is. Damn.”

“Ladies present,” she reminded him with a glint in her eye.

He raised an eyebrow. “You assured me, Dr Shaw, that after your experiences out in France, nothing could shock you.”

“So I did,” she agreed. “Touché. What did you want to say?”

The Brigadier turned. “I think you’re perfectly capable of anything you set your mind to, but I’m not best pleased at the Doctor for running off at such an inconvenient moment. I’d rather you weren’t in there alone. Unfortunately, I’m known to Sir Arthur’s circle and my presence might cause alarm. In the mean time, I suggest you take this.”

She raised her eyebrows as he handed her a firearm – a Colt single action service revolver – and then hunted about for the ammunition to go with it. She glanced up at him by way of enquiry.

“Whatever you do, don’t use it unless you have to, but best be safe rather than sorry,” he informed her. “You’d better get some practise with it before you go. I’ll show you – unless you’ve used one before?”

She said, “No, not really. There was once, but it’s not something I make a habit of. I take your point, and I suppose I should be flattered you’d trust me with a gun, but if you’re expecting me to carry this in my handbag, then really -”

The Brigadier surveyed her current outfit. “I leave that to you, Dr Shaw, although I’m not sure where else you’d put it.”

“Underhand,” she shot back at him, trying out how the weapon felt in her grasp. “I suppose I’d better be on my way. The Doctor left one of his impossible experiments out in the lab, and I feel I ought to clear it away. If left to itself, there’s an odd liquid that will probably grow tentacles and kill passers by, and we can’t have that, can we?”

He smiled. “No, of course not.”

“Whom are you expecting me to shoot, by the way?” she added. “Or should I ask what?”

The Brigadier said, “I trust you won’t have to shoot anyone. It’s a delicate business as it is – best not have you getting yourself a criminal record. Unless, of course, you already have one in pursuit of the Cause?”

“Oh,” she said, getting to her feet. “You would assume that everyone who supported Votes for Women was a member of some crackpot organisation that went around firebombing pillar boxes. For your information, I was a member of the NUWSS. Not that that probably means anything to you.”

He hid a smile, glancing at the ceiling. “Ah, yes. I think you may have mentioned it before. Yes, I do apologise. Of course, Mrs Fawcett and the other suffragists would never have done anything so ill-advised as disrupting the Derby.”

“Oh?” said Liz again, turning back in the doorway. “If I shoot anyone with this, I have a feeling it might well be you.”

He smiled at her desk. “Do try to avoid that, if possible. We’re short-staffed enough around here as it is.”

“Impossible man,” he heard her mutter under her breath as she marched out.

*

It was, he thought yet again, a damned nuisance to have the Doctor run off at such a time. There were some days when he’d be glad to be without the man, as long as he still had Dr Shaw to do the day to day work. She was capable, and didn’t constantly complain about the military. By and large, it went over his head but there were some days -. He grimaced. Strange as it would have seemed to an outsider, when it came down to it, Liz understood about the War, and the Doctor, marvellous as the fellow was, simply didn’t, not in the same way. In fact, he frequently forgot it had happened so recently, which earned him a few stares every now and then. That, he supposed wryly, must be the trouble with time travel, and he counted himself fortunate not to have to worry over it. Life was difficult enough when you went through it one day at a time in the right order.

Nevertheless, he could use an expert right now. He’d been asked to investigate this business, because there was something very peculiar about the sequence of murders, and the strange substance that had been found near the bodies on both occasions, but it could turn out to be Scotland Yard’s territory after all, and then where would they be?

“Sir,” said one of the men, knocking on the door. “There’s an elderly lady to see you. Wouldn’t go away no matter what I said, sir. Says she’s got something of use to tell you about the business down at the Grange.”

He raised an eyebrow and got to his feet. “Well, in that case, obviously I want to see her, man. Show her in at once, and don’t keep her waiting!”

“Sir,” he said hastily, giving a rapid salute and exiting.

The lady who entered shortly could hardly have been more different to Miss Shaw. She was still dressed in the longer skirts of the pre-war era and had a hat pinned to her white curls. She smiled at him. “You must be Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart?”

“I am,” he said, shutting the door behind her and ushering her into a chair. “Thank you for coming, madam. I understand you have some information for me?”

She took the chair and glanced up at him out of mild blue eyes, but he was reminded of his Great Aunt Margaret suddenly, and she had been as shrewd and observant as they came. “Well, I don’t know if I should go so far as to call it _information_ precisely, only I thought you ought to know, you see, because it was _quite_ out of character and I find that interesting. I thought perhaps you might, too.”

“If it has any bearing on the case, then I would,” he said. “Miss – er - what was the name again?”

She had a twinkle in her eye. “Miss Marple, Brigadier. Jane Marple.”

***

**Author's Note:**

> And now I can add that, John_Amend_All also suggested that, Marple and Poirot dating being as inexplicable as UNIT's, the same rules should apply. Which therefore, obviously implied there should be crossovers.


End file.
